Have Husband, Need Honeymoon (13 page)

“Come on, Brady. I want you to check out the chapel with me.”

“Why do you need me to go, Vivi? You and Alison can handle the details.”

“But Joe isn’t here and I want a man’s perspective.”

Brady ground his teeth and let her drag him to the car. Several minutes later, they parked by the lake, the fading afternoon sunlight spilling onto the small, old-fashioned white chapel, the water lapping softly at the bank. Alison was standing on the front stoop in a white sundress, with her dark hair brushing her shoulders. She looked like some sort of angel, and as he approached, he inhaled the scent of lilacs. His body automatically tensed.

“We’ll do a quick walk-through and decide what kind of decorations you want, Vivi,” Alison said.

Brady followed his sister inside, memories of the night he’d married Alison flooding him. The sky had been clear, the stars shining, the full moon silvery.

“How about simple white ribbons to rope off the seating area for the family?”

“Sounds great. Oh, and I want candles. Don’t you think a candlelight service will be romantic, Brady?”

Brady rubbed a hand along the sleek wood of a pew as he walked toward the pulpit. “I’m sure Joe will love it.”

Alison’s gaze met his and he froze. She was standing in the same spot she’d stood in when they’d said their vows. He could see her taking his hand, gazing at him with love and adoration, whispering her promises, giggling when he’d kissed her twice instead of the traditional once.

God, he wanted to kiss her again.

“Brady, now you stand there. I need to see how the wedding party will look.”

Vivica shoved him forward so he was standing in the groom’s spot. Alison blushed and he stepped closer, mesmerized by the way she looked in the dim light seeping through the stained glass windows.

“It’s a good thing I’m not having a dozen bridesmaids. This place is kind of small,” Vivica commented.

“It’s a great chapel,” Brady said.

“I like small, intimate weddings, myself,” Alison murmured.

“I’m going to check out the bride’s room downstairs,” Vivica whispered.

Brady heard her shoes tapping as she walked down the stairs.

Alison’s dark eyes raked over the pulpit. “Her wedding’s going to be lovely.”

Brady nodded, but he wasn’t thinking about his sister’s wedding. He was remembering his own, and how little time he had left until his marriage ended. With that thought on his mind, he did what he’d wanted to do since he’d left Alison at the pool.

He reached out, pulled her into his arms and kissed her again.

Chapter 12

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A
lison melted into Brady’s arms, so desperate for his kiss she felt as if she would have withered up and died if he hadn’t finally succumbed. She’d wanted him when she’d felt his presence this morning at the pool, and, after that kiss, had fantasized about tossing her swimsuit aside, climbing out of the pool naked and having him follow her to the locker room and the shower…

Who was she kidding? She’d wanted him ever since she’d seen him standing on that parade float the first day he’d returned.

His lips tasted like fire, ravaging her with heat and hunger. She slid her hands to his chest, felt his heart pounding beneath her palms, felt his muscles tense as she stroked upward and dug her fingers into his hair. His hands dragged her closer, one tunneling through her own hair to draw her closer as his tongue probed the recesses of her mouth, licking, sucking, tasting, torturing.

They had said their vows right here in this chapel and had sealed their promises with a kiss. She felt that same yearning in his touch she’d felt years ago and realized that at least for now Brady still wanted her – no matter how much he kept pushing her away.

His lips blazed a trail across her cheek, then down her jaw and neck, and Alison moaned and pulled him closer. But footsteps tapped behind them, bringing her back to reality.

Brady tensed as if he heard them, too.

They slowly pulled apart. Alison tried to steady her breathing, hurriedly tucking her hair back in place. Brady shifted, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“The bride’s room is perfect,” Vivica sang from the back of the church. “Anything else we need to talk about, Ali?”

Alison smiled shakily, grateful Vivica was at least acting as if she hadn’t seen them. Of course, after Vivi’s suggestion earlier – that Alison seduce Brady – she was probably silently cheering.

“No, I think everything’s in good shape.”

“Great.”

Brady busied himself pretending interest in the woodwork. Alison decided to give him a moment to gather his composure, and went to the back of the church to meet Vivica. “Come on, let’s check the outside, see where you want to set up the reception. You still want to have it outside if it’s pretty, right?”

“Absolutely.”

Alison grabbed Vivica’s arm and guided her to the lake, desperately wondering what Brady was thinking.

* * *

Brady stared at the pulpit, the stained glass windows, the candelabra, and felt a peace he hadn’t known in a long time.

Odd, since he’d just kissed the daylights out of Alison.

But standing in the spot where they’d promised each other their love, feeling her in his arms again, he almost felt whole again. He could almost forget about the accident. About Josh.

No, he thought, panic streaking through him. He could never forget about Josh and what had happened. He owed his friend that much loyalty.

The familiar anxiety pressed in on him, the nightmarish voices echoing in his head. He fisted his hands and walked outside to see if Vivica was ready to go home. Alison and his sister stood by the lake, laughing and planning where to set up the tables for the reception. A moment of regret attacked him: had things been different, he and Alison might be making plans for their future.

Plans for a home, children and a life together, not a divorce.

* * *

When Alison arrived home, she removed the wedding photo from the hope chest and set it on her dresser. The imprint of Brady’s lips on hers still burned. His hands on her body had turned the hunger into an ache of desire. He’d felt it, too – she knew he had, although when he’d exited the church, she’d seen that wall go up between them again.

She was going to break down that barrier and find out why Brady had decided they couldn’t be together.

Determination filling her, she made some hot tea and settled on the chaise to reread some of his old letters.

Dear Alison,

I bet you thought I’d forgotten our anniversary, but I didn’t – a year ago today we were married. I’ve had you on my mind all day. It’s night now and I’m in my bunk, wishing I was there and we could celebrate together. When I lie down and close my eyes, I can see you standing in the soft candlelight of the chapel. I can hear your voice whispering my name, promising to be my wife, to love me for better or for worse.

I know it stinks that we’re apart, and technically we’re not still married, since your dad filed those papers, but in my head I’m still your husband. The guys here like to talk about all the women they … you know how guys talk, and I feel like a geek sometimes, because I don’t care about having a bunch of women. All I want is you.

I hear the guys coming now and I better close this so they don’t razz me to death. But I meant what I said, baby. You’re the one in my dreams at night, and I’m always hot with wanting you. Sometimes it’s just plain torture thinking about you, remembering that night we made love by the lake. But that memory keeps me going – until we can be together again.

Happy anniversary.

Love always,

Brady

Alison closed the letter and traced her finger over the picture frame, running her fingertip along the outline of Brady’s face. In the photo, she’d been wearing her prom dress, summer flowers blooming in the background. If she married again, she wanted to have a traditional gown – and she knew the one she wanted. She’d seen it in the catalogue today. Feeling like a wistful child, she found the catalogue and cut out the picture. It was an original designer gown, with an off-the-shoulder lace bodice, and a matte satin scalloped skirt. She placed the photo inside her hope chest and smiled, thinking of Grammy Rose and the fact that she’d disagreed with her father about filing the papers. Maybe Grammy Rose had had some kind of premonition that Alison and Brady were meant to be together.

She glanced back at the picture and smiled. “I’m not giving up on you, Brady. Not yet.”

* * *

“
Alison is just so wonderful
,” Vivica said as she climbed from the car. “She’s smart and organized and has a great business mind. In high school did you ever think she’d turn out to be such a good businesswoman?”

“No, Vivica, I didn’t.” Brady gritted his teeth. The entire way home he’d heard nothing but praise for Alison.

“And you have to admit she’s more beautiful now than she was then.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You know, I’d be surprised if she stays in Sugar Hill forever, though. Some guy is going to come along, realize what a prize she is and sweep her out of here.”

“That’s enough, Vivi.”

Vivica turned a saccharine smile his way. “Enough what?”

“Enough of a sales pitch on Alison.”

“What?” Vivica lay a hand over her heart. “I was just making conversation, Brady.”

“Yeah, right.”

He headed toward the bedroom, anxious to get away from her meddling, but his mother caught him in the hall.

“There you are, son. Do you have a minute?”

“What for, Mother?”

“To talk about the print shop, of course.”

Brady frowned. “No, Mom, not right now.”

She seemed shocked, but he ignored her reaction, went into his bedroom and shut the door. Five minutes later, he was sitting on his balcony, basking in his privacy, with a Scotch and Alison’s letters.

Dear Brady,

It’s
Thanksgiving here and the whole family got together. Did I tell you Hannah’s in med school now? She’s so smart, but we all knew she’d be a success someday. On the flip side, Mimi dropped out of school. Get this, she wants to be an actress. I think she’d be really great at it, but Dad had a cow. I haven’t seen him that upset since the night you and I got married.

I got the letter you wrote on our anniversary and I’m glad you remembered. I went out to the lake that night and took a picnic, Brady. I know it sounds silly, but I pretended you were there and we were renewing our vows. I even snitched a bottle of wine from Dad’s cupboard and had a sip, just to toast our special day.

The lake was so quiet and beautiful. I lay on the blanket and stared at the moon; it was a quarter moon hung low in the sky, and while I watched the thousands of stars twinkling down at me, I thought about you, Brady. About how I felt the first time I met you. The minute I saw you, my heart started pounding like a freight train – I knew you were going to be the one. The guy I’d saved myself for.

I’m closing my eyes now, Brady, pretending you’re here with me, that you’ve snuck into my bedroom and it’s oh so dark, and you crawled under the covers. Of course, I’m lying here waiting for you, naked and lonely and wanting to feel you touch and kiss me so bad I hurt. I think about your lips on mine, your tongue teasing my body, filling me, making me yours forever, and I’m so aroused I don’t know if I can sleep. But if I do, Brady, I’ll dream of you. And one day I know those dreams will come true, that you’ll be here again, in my arms, in my bed, sharing my kisses and loving my body as a husband should.

I love you forever & ever & always,

Alison

Brady almost crushed the letter in his fist. Dammit, he wanted to do that, to love her body the way a husband should. To hold her and kiss her and drive her insane with his lips and his hands and his pulsing need.

He stared at the words again and picked up a pen. He hadn’t written a letter in a long time. But after that heated kiss, he felt the urge to write Alison.

Dear Alison,

I don’t even know where to begin. It’s been so long since I’ve written you, since we’ve really talked, and there’s so much to tell you. All about the long months I was away, about how I thought of you every day and wondered what you were doing, if you were still writing me, if you still dreamed of me at night.

And there’s the accident. I don’t know if I can ever tell you about that. But it’s changed me and I…

He paused, not knowing what to say. Frustrated, he suddenly balled up the paper and hurled it into the trash. What good would writing letters do now? Alison might still have feelings for him, but she loved the old Brady, the memories – the football star, the athlete, the fighter pilot.

And until he could fly again, he could never be that man.

* * *

The next morning
Ali
son took her time stretching before she dove into the pool. She knew Brady would be there, that he would be watching. She’d seen him in the gym when she’d arrived. Apparently he’d decided to add a morning workout on the machines to his physical therapy sessions with Vivica.

Maybe he was getting back in shape so he could return to the Air Force.

The idea of him leaving before the month ended sent panic streaking through Alison. But if it meant Brady would be flying again, she’d have to let him go.

She moved easily into her routine, feeling the cool water infuse her with energy and calm her nerves. One stroke, then another… She glided through her laps, finally switching to the breaststroke, then onto her back to cool down.

She saw the barest hint of his shadow in the distance. Her breathing hitched in her throat but she tried not to react. She’d worn a skimpier bathing suit today, a one-piece cut so high on her thigh it almost veed to her waist. The midsection was cut out, the bodice connected to the bikini bottom by sheer lace, the low-cut top emphasizing her breasts. They were tingling now, not only from the cool water but from the heat of Brady’s eyes.